


Bi And Ready to Try

by berava



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Male Character, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:31:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berava/pseuds/berava
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have no real summary for this. Rasa is socially inept and hot for Baki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bi And Ready to Try

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to do this pairing for awhile. 
> 
> I also want to do the AU where Rasa never dies and Baki becomes their stepdad, but this is what I have for now.
> 
> it was written so late at night that for half of it i couldn't really see the screen, so i'm sorry for any awful mistakes

The room was filled with small, irritating noises. The hum of the desk fan, the tick of the clock on the wall, even the barely audible buzz of the overhead light... It was grating. Someone may as well have been standing next to him clapping in his ear, for how spectacularly bad his focus was.  
Rasa threw himself back into his chair, tossing his pen so it went skittering across his desk before coming to a rest a few centimetres before it could topple out of sight.  
Tick, tick, tick—he was going to throw it out the fucking window. Who's idea was it to put such an obnoxious clock in his office, anyway? Why not a small alarm clock with the option to be silent? Why did people hate new technology? Shit, he'd rather have someone poke their head in every half hour to tell him the time than listen to one more damn tick.  
It was just as his angry muttering was starting to soothe him that someone knocked on his door and set him back on edge. His teeth gritted tight together and his eyes turned on the door with a look so hard he hoped it would cut clear through the wood and teach them a lesson.  
“Kazekage, sir?”  
It felt like his heart skipped a beat, and he sat forward in his chair with a nervous smoothing of his shirt. “Come in.”  
The door opened, and was immediately blocked by the tall, broad frame of the jonin he had recently become more well-acquainted with. He knew all of his jonin, of course, but most of them flew under his radar so long as they were doing their job. It was good to be outside of his notice, because it meant you were doing well. But this one, he had been specially picked from the group, along with two others, as a potential candidate for the enormous task of governing the Kazekage's children.  
“Baki.”  
“Sir,” the man bowed stiffly, one hand over his stomach. His propriety had never faltered, so far as Rasa had seen. He was disciplined, strong, loyal, and somehow still a huge inconvenience to his leader.  
“Is everything alright?”  
Baki seemed surprised, at first, blinking his one visible eye before quickly smothering the look, “Of course, sir. I'm just here with this weeks report on my students and their progress.”  
“Right. Of course. Um,” Rasa waved a hand awkwardly towards the front of his desk, “Come in.”  
“Thank you, sir.”  
Rasa kept his hands in his lap, twisting his fingers out of sight as Baki shut the door behind him and crossed the floor with an unintentionally intimidating gait. Rasa's stomach squirmed.  
“Here,” Baki produced a file and laid it carefully in front of him, arm passing under Rasa's gaze and trapping his attention. His bicep must have been as thick as Rasa's neck, and just from looking he knew Baki's hand would dwarf his own. Rasa wasn't a small man, but Baki was in a class all his own.   
“I can summarize, but I've included as much detail as possible,” Baki paused for a moment, seeming to mull over just what was important or interesting enough to share first hand. Rasa didn't care what he said, really, he was just anxious to hear the deep growl that hid under everything that came out of his mouth.  
“Go on.”  
“Well, notably, Temari is doing well. She is benefiting a great deal from my own technique, and grows more accustomed to such an unyielding weapon every day. I admit I'm not much of a weapon user myself, I'm much better with my hands.”  
Rasa let his mind wander to blissful places, though kept tight control on his face so it wouldn't show. Every time Baki entered his office, he was compelled to suggest a sparring session, but by this point there would be nothing at all innocent about the request.  
“Kankurou is steadily acclimating to a more... structured dynamic,” Baki spoke very deliberately this time, turning each word over in his mouth to filter out the frustration that Rasa knew he must suffer. Moving Kankurou to serious action was something akin to pushing a boulder uphill. “Though being ordered around still seems to be a source of contempt no matter how I approach it.”  
Rasa tried to focus, he really did. But he could have guessed all of this on his own. Temari learned fast and Kankurou learned only as fast as he felt like. All Rasa wanted to do was to not think about what he really wanted to do, and he was struggling.   
“Gaara-”  
That word tugged him out of his reverie quite harshly, eyebrows raised to resemble something close to curiosity when really he was only expecting to be not at all surprised by what he heard.  
“Seems stagnated, in a way. I believe he thinks what he has available is good enough because, I suppose, it always has been. There isn't much I think I can teach him.”  
“Um,” Rasa made a small gesture with his hands, “Just get him tolerating his team and I think that will be enough to keep me happy, for now. Keep a leash on Gaara, train the others.”  
“Right.”  
If Baki had any objections or wanted to argue, not a hint of it showed on his face. He squared his shoulders, preparing to make his departure, and Rasa was caught between wanting him to stay and wanting anything but. All he could do was nod and pull the file closer, dismissing Baki with a pointed look and breathing a heavy sigh when the door clicked shut behind him.  
It had taken Rasa a long time to come to terms with his... divergent intimate cravings. His desire towards women, though selective, had always been certain. His desire towards men had always been squashed under denial and over-inflated displays of masculinity. He often confused attraction for admiration.   
It seemed like it only resurfaced recently, because he'd gone almost thirteen years without so much as a glimmer of interest towards another person. His wife took his heart with her to the grave, and every other inclination his body had was kept dormant by life in general.  
Then the three candidates had come through his door some months ago, and Baki had towered over the other two with a strictly tempered face and a voice that ignited a heat in Rasa's stomach with it's low intensity. Through his younger years, interest had prickled at him often enough that it barely registered; but after so long, it rammed him full in the gut and made it hard to look the other man in the eye.   
Either way, on the cusp of his forties he could no longer claim that he would object to the intimate attentions of another man. That thought sent a strange feeling down his spine, one that was not entirely pleasant. He'd been raised a certain way, and that way wasn't welcoming towards such leanings. He didn't tell himself it was WRONG anymore, but there was still something of a wall between him and the idea.  
A wall that was periodically scaled by the more pervasive of his erotic fancies, much to his dismay. And it seemed that Baki had some kind of grappling hook to make matters worse.  
Alone again, Rasa leaned his head back against the chair and chewed roughly on his lip, hands safely resting on the arms of his chair and eyes shut as though that would block out the thoughts.  
It didn't. He still imagined Baki's hands inching up his sides, the two men navel to navel as Baki used his size to press Rasa into the desk. He wasn't sure what it was about men who made him feel small that got him so bothered. Maybe it was the shift in power...  
Breathing out shakily, Rasa tried to use his hands to scrub away the heat in his face. He was too old to be getting like this. He wasn't some hormonal teenager, jerking off to the way his future girlfriend filled out dresses that hung loosely off of everyone else. He should have been having his midlife crisis, not squeezing his thighs together because of some man with wide shoulders and pants cut noticeably more baggy than others.   
But there he was, legs shaking from how firmly he kept them closed, trying to will away the growing erection. Fighting it made it worse. A small part of him knew that and wanted it, because feeling so helpless in the face of this attraction was somehow arousing. Fighting with his own body to not be overcome with lust was a turn on. He did feel young again, new to it all. He liked to imagine Baki would enjoy that: a pseudo-virgin.   
His hand had wandered, squeezing its way between his legs and making him squirm against the pressure. He was panting softly, heat travelling along his nerves and mind now running wild. What if he came back in? Saw him like this, huffing and rolling his hips in a desperate attempt to feel pleasure without caving to something as beneath him as masturbating. Baki was loyal. He'd do whatever he could to help his Kazekage, even if it meant laying him out on the table and destroying him.   
That was too far. His hand pulled away roughly and he grit his teeth to quell the way his body throbbed. How had this spiralled so quickly? It was only a few months ago that he would only get a small flutter of eagerness when the man was around, or mentioned. It was fewer months still since he'd really acknowledged this part of himself. And he was the Kazekage, for fuck's sake. He couldn't splay himself out on his back to taken like someone paid to be there. But he wanted to. For a little while he wanted to stop being the Kazekage and be somebody's lover. How pathetic was that?  
Angrily, he got to his feet and paced around to the front of his desk. Three thoughts speared him at once: that this was below a man of his power and stature, that he was human and wanted what most humans did, and that Baki would likely never consider him that way to begin with.  
Despite this, he sat on the edge of his desk and sucked his lip into his mouth. It was a long moment before he laid back, letting out a slow breath and spreading his legs until he felt like he was on display and trembled. Childish... This shouldn't excite him. And he shouldn't have even been contemplating what he was about to do.   
Gold dust slithered out of the places he stored it, rising and shaping itself in front of his desk until it had solidified into a perfect Baki replica. Rasa aggressively bit back the whimper that rose as the Baki clone leaned over him, hands grabbing his hips and pulling him forward until its lower half kept Rasa pinned to the table top. The form was malleable enough to curve comfortable against his form, but firm enough to provide the friction Rasa craved.   
The whimper fought back as the Baki clone started rocking its hips down against him, grinding against his crotch and sending waves of lightning through his stomach. It slipped past his lips, and he felt his face ignite in an instant.   
“Ooh...”  
The clone leaned lower, covering half of Rasa's body and continuing its slow, hard motions until Rasa lifted his legs to wrap around its middle.   
“Baki...”  
Faster, and Rasa was no longer trying to smother the quiet sounds that escaped him. Soft moans and croaky gasps made the clone try harder. Rasa's hand came up to rake through his own hair and grip it, face contorted into a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure and eyes closed tight as though he had anyone around to hide those feelings from.  
“Fuck... Please.”  
The desk was starting to creak and shift, and all Rasa wanted was the real thing. He wouldn't dream of ending this moment early, but God did he want to be fucked properly. His own dirty thoughts fed the immature embarrassment. He'd never thought like that before.   
He'd thought about fucking, of course. But there was quite a difference between wanting to fuck someone, and wanting someone to fuck you. He barely knew how to imagine it, beyond knowing Baki belonged on top of him. How would it feel, to have someone inside of him?  
He couldn't do that now, not like this, but responding to his thoughts the clone pulled away and turned him onto his stomach, pressing itself against his ass.  
Rasa didn't know what to do, didn't know how to handle the way it made his body shiver and ache. His dick was pressed into the desk when the clone resumed its quick, steady pace, and he hid his face in his arm because his reflection in the window showed him how red it was.  
The way it muffled his voice encouraged him to be a little louder. His unsteady sighs and whines turned into breathy moans and sharp inhalations that shook his chest. He groaned Baki's name over and over again, sinking deep into fantasies of the rough penetration that he could barely admit to wanting.  
Suddenly, the friction reached its boiling point and he was rocking back against the clone with unrestrained desperation. It leaned over, grabbed the opposite edge of the desk and pushed him further and further until he was on his toes and his legs were twitching. His orgasm was quick and exhausting.  
In an instant, the clone collapsed back into gold dust and Rasa slid off of his desk with a hand cupped between his legs. His only regret at that moment was the fact that he'd have to walk through the halls to go and change. 

-

Days later, Rasa was still effected. He was simultaneously trying to avoid Baki and trying to see more of him. From a distance, of course. He was afraid if Baki got too close, he would be forced to remember what he'd done and be unable to hide his discomfort.   
Whenever Baki was with Rasa's children, he didn't bother seeking him out, but when he knew he was attending more solitary jonin business he found time to do rounds through the headquarters until he heard the rumble of his voice.   
The man, despite his general absence from Rasa's life at that moment, was driving him to the point of feeling needy. He wanted Baki's attention. He wanted him to incite the same uncontrollable arousal that had Rasa draped over his desk. He wanted-  
“Kazekage, sir!”  
Rasa tensed, hand twitching as though he meant to draw on the gold dust, but he recognized Baki's voice quickly enough to loosen his fingers before anything stirred. Having been on his way back to the office, he hadn't been expecting to run into him after his brief search had been fruitless.  
“Baki...”  
“I almost ran into you, I'm so sorry,” Baki stepped away and swooped into a low bow, “I was in too much of a rush.”  
“Have somewhere to be?”  
“Not officially,” Baki looked awkward, glancing off to the side, “I was actually going to celebrate the completion of a mission milestone. I'm not usually so eager to get off shift, but... well.”  
“Everybody needs time to relax,” Rasa said smoothly, proud to say that he'd only briefly thought of his own relaxing endeavour. “How do you mean to celebrate?”  
It was with those words and that tone that Rasa was reminded of the fact that he was actually quite inept at talking to people one on one. It sounded awkward, exactly what you would expect from a boss trying to speak casually with his subordinate.  
“A couple of drinks. Nothing fancy, I just don't usually allow myself to partake.”  
“Oh.”  
Rasa didn't mean it as anything, but the syllable made Baki look even more uncertain as he scanned Rasa's impassive face. There was a long moment of thought before he responded.  
“Would you like to join me, sir?”  
“Join you?” Rasa's brows twitched into a frown, but his heart was hammering in his chest. Even though it was likely an idle offer to keep from offending him, Rasa felt a flutter of excitement. “I would, if that is agreeable.”  
Yes, he was definitely bad at talking to people. But, thankfully, Baki's face relaxed into a small smile.   
“I suppose it is... agreeable. Sir. My treat.”

The bar was narrow and crowded, but the atmosphere was enjoyable enough. It didn't smell bad, which was definitely a plus, and the bartender insisted on free drinks for 'the Lord Kazekage and his friend'.   
“Friend,” Baki had chuckled into his cup a moment before he lifted it and drained half of its contents into his mouth. Rasa shifted on his stool, only sipping at his own. He had played too much with alcohol for some years and had learned the hard way to control himself.  
Baki quickly found another glass replacing the first as he finished it, but he didn't drink that one quite as fast. Instead, he turned to face Rasa properly, seeming unsure of how to proceed.  
“You can relax, Baki. If I'm not wearing the robes, I'm either friendly or fighting.”  
“I'm not the relaxed sort, sir,” Baki admitted with a low laugh that made Rasa bite his lip before he could stop himself. “My life has always been at least a little militant.”  
“That explains why you're so,” Rasa fumbled, nervous to proceed in case he seemed too forward, “Impressive.”  
“You find me impressive, sir?” Baki was surprised, but he managed a small smile, “I'm not much more than a foot soldier, beyond being able to move fast and hit hard.”  
“I bet,” Rasa mumbled, chin finding its way to his palm. Baki didn't seem to hear him, having turned back to his drink in an attempt to hide what must have been his version of flustered.   
“But you are impressive. Not just your size. Though... that is. Its also your capabilities. I picked you for a reason. You impress me.”  
“Can I be honest, sir?”  
“Of course...” Rasa's fingers began fidgeting with each other, eyes growing a touch wider and his mind running off after all sorts of stupid hopes.  
“That day we all came to your office, I thought you immediately passed me over. You took one look, then seemed to ignore me for the remainder of the interview. I was shocked, honestly, when I received the notice of my new assignment.”  
God... Rasa had no clue what to do here. Should he be honest? Tell Baki that his voice had made him melt like honey, and every time he glanced towards him something warm slid into his belly? If he were to lie, what could he possibly say?  
“Not at all. I... suppose I didn't want to give away how quickly I'd made my choice.”  
Baki seemed pleased with that answer and polished off the second drink. Rasa waved for another, noticing the tension leave Baki's wide shoulders and wanting to keep a good thing going.  
“I'm still not sure how I can impress YOU of all people, though.” He'd dropped the 'sir', though Rasa didn't think it was entirely intentional. Drinking as fast as he had probably had a slight hand in it. “You're this untouchable figure.”  
“I'm touchable.”  
Baki blinked at him. Rasa faltered again, distracting himself with the first drink he had yet to finish. But Baki's gaze didn't wander away. Had he said it weirdly?   
“You seem a little on edge. Is it too crowded here? I'm sure three drinks will be enough for me.”  
“We don't need to leave on my account,” Rasa answered quickly, then followed it up with one of his rare smiles in the hopes that would be enough to ease him off the topic.  
Baki gave a firm nod and finished the third drink as quickly as he had the first. The barkeep brought another. After a little bit of time and a little bit of chatting, Baki started to sit more loosely and talk more fervently. Rasa had managed to down two drinks and coast into tipsiness, but quickly found it was going to do him no favours.  
Baki sat with his legs apart, and Rasa wanted to be in his lap. No longer set in its hard line, his mouth looked enticing, even half-concealed. Feeling a little braver, Rasa had adjusted himself on the stool so their legs were pressed together. Baki didn't seem bothered.  
“I encounter way more underhanded behaviour from the people behind the desks than I do out on the field,” Baki went on, waving a hand then glancing at him apologetically, “Not you, of course. I mean among the grunt workers. They're smart, is the problem. Thinkers.”  
Rasa laughed lightly and rubbed their legs together, drawing Baki's gaze down for a moment before he shifted, again, to face Rasa.   
“When thinkers want to pull one over on you, it stings a hell of a lot more than a punch.”  
“I'm sure you're perfectly equipped to deal with both,” Rasa said, patting Baki's thigh and earning himself a loud, warm laugh.   
“Ah, maybe,” Baki glanced quickly around, then drained his last cup, “It's getting a little overcrowded. I think I need some air. Shall we?”  
“I think you need more than air,” Rasa teased, helping Baki to his feet and turning him towards the door. “A bed, maybe.”  
“You got a bed for me?”  
Rasa trembled, nodding quickly even though Baki seemed more amused than suggestive. He probably meant he wouldn't make it back to his own house... But Rasa was just tipsy enough to act dumb.  
“Yeah, I'll make sure you're taken care of.”  
“Can't lose somebody who's so well equipped.”

It wasn't much of a walk, but every passing second had Rasa more and more flighty. It gave him too much time to think about it, to realize he was being brash and not thinking it through for all the thinking he WAS doing.  
When they finally made it inside, the hallways were mercifully clear beyond the appropriately posted guards. He didn't need to give them an answer for why Baki was quite clearly intoxicated, because nobody dared to question him. At least Baki could still walk and talk straight.  
“Right in here.”  
Rasa nudged Baki into the guest room among his private suites, then hesitated at the door as he reconsidered his naive plan for the hundredth time. He couldn't play around, could he? There was no excusing it from a forty-year-old. He stepped further in and spoke suddenly but uncertainly.  
“Baki.”  
“Sir?”  
The words kept catching in his throat, a deep blush creeping its way out from his nose to heat up his cheeks and ears. He had to be mature about this, but it was exceptionally hard when he blushed like a prepubescent.  
“I... I have intentions.”  
“Do you?” the words were a little slurred, but Baki moved over to him with no stumble in his step. Rasa was cowed into stepping back, which caused Baki to freeze and stare. “I'm sorry.”  
“Its fine,” Rasa spoke tersely, then rubbed a hand up his arm and softened his tone as much as he could. “I have these desires...” he tried to pick up his train of thought, “Surrounding you. I want to pursue them, but I don't know how that makes you feel.”  
Baki took another step forward, more carefully and slowly this time. Rasa wasn't frightened—he hadn't been the first time, not exactly—but he eyed Baki as he would an animal with unclear intentions.   
“What are your desires?”  
“What..?”  
“What do you want, sir?”  
“You,” Rasa responded tightly, arms clasping over his chest in a pose that had become symbolic of him. Now, he did it out of embarrassment and anxiety.  
“You want me,” Baki repeated lowly, the growl even more pronounced and doing things to Rasa that almost made him stop thinking straight. The distance between them was closed, Rasa could smell the remnants of the alcohol on his breath.   
“You are my Kazekage. I'm here to do whatever you ask of me,” one hard, calloused hand deftly found its way beneath Rasa's shirt to rest on his hip. “If you want me to scrub floors, I scrub floors. If you want me to kill, I kill,” the fingers dug into his skin and Rasa whined before he could stop himself.  
“If you want me to press your face into the pillow and make you ache, I'll do that too.”  
“Mmh...”  
Before he knew what was happening, Rasa was lifted off the ground by one strong arm around his middle, Baki's free hand closing the door again and carrying him over to the bed. Rasa felt like he should protest, his dignity still alive and kicking somewhere in there, but the way Baki gently laid him down did something entirely new to him.   
It wasn't the same raw arousal that everything else caused. It was warm and soft, and when Baki carefully eased Rasa free of his shirt, the feeling washed over him like a wave.  
“It's an honour,” Baki mumbled unevenly, running his fingers from Rasa's sternum to his bellybutton, “Seeing you like this. You really are perfect.”  
Rasa could have melted into the blankets and knew right that second that Baki could do absolutely anything he wanted and Rasa would be happy to let him.  
“I need you to wait here, Rasa.”   
Hearing his own name was rare, and it flipped an obedient switch in his head that made him nod and ask no questions. Baki smiled, placing a hand on each of Rasa's legs and easing them apart.  
“Keep yourself warm while I'm gone.”  
All sorts of conflicting thoughts ran through his head as Baki left. He'd always felt a sort of shame when he considered toying with himself, but what a sight he would be for when Baki returned... It took no time at all for him to get over it.  
His hand shoved down his pants and gripped his semi-hard self, palming at his crotch until he was fully erect and rubbing himself up into his hand. Baki's absence was mercifully short, and Rasa got a great deal of pleasure from the way he lingered in the door to watch.   
It took everything in Rasa's power not to flip onto his stomach like he was ready to be mounted, instead slowing his motions to languid strokes and curiously eyeing Baki's closed hand.  
“Lubricant,” Baki explained shortly, dropping it on the bed and working his way out of his own shirt. Standing topless, Rasa gazed wide-eyed and hungry at Baki's hard-toned and tautly defined body. He was barrel-chested and thickly muscled, making Rasa's own sculpted body look lean by comparison.   
Taking up the lube again, Baki watched Rasa through half-lidded eyes and slipped a hand below his belt line, toying around in there long enough to get Rasa huffing with impatience. He had to know.  
Finally, Baki pulled his cock free and Rasa made a sound that he knew he would never live down.   
It was huge, long and so thick that Baki's fingers couldn't reach all the way around. It was too heavy to stand fully upright, the head of it big enough to fill Rasa's palm.  
“Oh...”  
Baki couldn't help but smirk, Rasa's posture shifting to something more demure of its own accord. “This is why I got the lube,” he chuckled, squirting some into his hand and slowly spreading it along his girth. He made a show of it, standing between Rasa's feet and stroking himself.  
“I need just one thing from you, sir.”  
“Ok...”  
“Ask nicely.”  
There was no hesitation at all. Rasa looked at that huge dick and all pretense went out the window. He spread his legs and tugged his own pants further down over his hips. “Please, Baki. Please.”  
Plead though he did, Rasa had to get through the foreplay first. Not that it was at all bad—Baki's fingers worked magic on him—but he was so desperate. He kept begging all throughout, even as he fucked himself on the three digits that Baki got in there. Even as he expertly crooked his finger and find something that sent Rasa careening into pleasured tremors.   
Finally, mercifully, Baki urged him further onto the bed and crawled on after him, pulling his pants free and tossing them aside.   
“Spread your legs.”  
Rasa obeyed, legs spread as wide as he could. He'd never felt more vulnerable, all of him left to Baki's attentions. They pressed tight together, the thick, hot cockhead teasing at Rasa's entrance and making his breath unsteady. It pushed, slowly and carefully, until it could ease inside.   
In one, humiliating instant, Rasa was cooing and writhing, Baki pushing deeper, inch by hot inch until Rasa felt like he might explode.   
“I... I'm full,” he mumbled, then felt stupid for letting such a dumb, half-formed thought make it to his teeth.  
Baki smile and leaned down, big hands holding his hips and teasing them in slow circles. His lips hovered by Rasa's ear, breath ghosting over his neck, “That's only half.”  
Rasa moaned loudly, legs thrown wide, wanton and desperate and already feeling thoroughly flooded by dizzying heat. He felt winded, and they'd barely started.   
“You're so tight I can hardly move,” Baki mumbled, head dropping and mouth pressing to Rasa's shoulder. Rasa wanted to point out it wasn't his fault, but Baki whispered about how good he felt and he settled for a sweet, satisfied sigh.   
For all Baki's trying to take it slow, to cater to Rasa's needs, he got a little forceful. He did struggle to move, Rasa engulfing him so tightly that, by his own admission, it felt like he was being crushed. But Rasa loved it, loved the way he squeezed his hips and pulled him down until Baki was balls deep inside of him. Loved the way he stretched him to his limit and promised more.  
“I can't wait any more, Rasa,” Baki groaned, arched over him and watching him through half-lidded eyes.   
“I want it,” Rasa stammered, knowing he must have looked a fool with a beet red face and expressions he couldn't control, “Hard. Please...”  
He worried, at first, that Baki meant to go easy on him, moving slowly as he pulled out. But the first thrust was hard, and deep, and Rasa choked on the cry it coaxed out of his mouth. He was forced down into the mattress by Baki's strength, every hard thrust making his head spin and adding to the furious heat that spread throughout his body in trembling waves. He had to clap his hand over his mouth.  
As moving became easier, Baki sped up, his motions more shallow but dragging wonderfully along every nerve until Rasa couldn't restrain himself anymore.   
The sound that came out of him was unlike anything he could have expected. He knew what he usually sounded like—guttural moans and heavy breathing—but this was a low, long keen drawn out of his chest and filling the room. It didn't belong in the mouth of the village leader, but it made Baki groan and quicken the pace further.   
Baki's hips were colliding with Rasa's thighs hard enough that he wouldn't be surprised to find bruises there the next day, and Rasa was grasping at Baki's back as though it was the only thing that could keep him grounded. His nails bit into heavy shoulders, knees rocking down towards the mattress with every ruthless thrust, and his whole body burning.  
It was hard to breath, and Rasa was starting to ache in the best way possible. He could feel Baki in every inch of him, from the hot ball behind his bellybutton to his humming pulse... As the bigger man sunk deep into him once more, Rasa started stammering, trying to speak. Baki had to slow, had to rub soothing circles over his stomach, until he calmed enough to tell Baki that he wanted to be humped.  
Rasa was on his stomach before he knew what had happened, hips lifted and a pillow expertly slid underneath. He tightened his jaw just to keep all the humiliating noises inside, sliding his arms under the pillow he had left and burying his face in it.  
Being penetrated again was utter bliss, Baki's dick stretching him all over again and bottoming out with the first push. It felt even bigger than it looked.   
With the pillow to smother him, Rasa's moans were loud and as frantic as he felt. Baki pulled him back into every thrust and reached a new level of deep, huffing and groaning with pleasured exertion. Rasa wasn't sure if it was cruel or merciful that this position sped things along. His legs started trembling violently and he made a mess of the blanket with no other warning for Baki than his sudden tightening.  
“Fuck!” Baki breathed, almost brought to a stop, but eagerly making the most of it to keep fucking Rasa through his mind-numbing orgasm. That was entirely selfish, Rasa knew, and that excited him more than most else had.   
It was only a few more moments before Baki curled over his back and made sure he was fully buried in the Kazekage before giving in. His dick throbbed and Rasa started whimpering, Baki's cum filling him further and pushing him into uncharacteristic shyness.  
When the jonin pulled out, Rasa fell limp onto the bed and reached down between his legs as if to modestly cover himself. Though he basked in the softened tremors, Rasa waited anxiously for the jeering comments. He, the strongest shinobi in the village, had just been fucked into speechlessness by someone lower than him. But Baki stroked a hand up his back and gently tugged the pillow out from underneath him so he could get comfortable.  
“Thank you,” Baki mumbled and Rasa glanced over his shoulder just long enough to start blushing furiously. “I didn't deserve something so good.”  
Oh, he was a sweet talker... Despite all of Rasa's resolve, it worked. He smiled unseen into the pillow and let Baki pull him into a lazy hug as he laid down.


End file.
